Forbidden Love with the Marine(8)

Ivan tried to offer up a prayer for strength, and one line was all he could dredge up from his lust-punctured brain. Please...lead me not into temptation...

And then she said it. Those words he’d only dreamed of ever hearing her say. Now she uttered them in the exact same husky voice of feminine arousal that had his head spinning and his heart surging along with his cock.

“Touch me, Ivan. Please.” The invitation within her molten gaze was unmistakable just in case he couldn’t credit his hearing. Her hands lifted to slide down her neck to her breasts, skimming her flesh seductively. Brushing her nipples and then feathering over the cleft between her toned, golden thighs.

Fucking hell! He couldn’t breathe. Forgot how to.

“No. Olivia...don’t ask that of me. Please, just don’t. You know I can’t.” His words came out more like a groan. Why was he still standing there, rooted? Why did it seem like he couldn’t function and put as much distance between him and this sweet temptation before it overwhelmed him completely? Why weren’t his feet moving?

Her eyes looked hurt, her hands pausing in their seductive trail on her hips. “Why? Aren’t I beautiful enough? Don’t you like me? Want me?”

“Why are you doing this?” Ivan’s voice was pained, like someone had his balls in a tight grip and wouldn’t let go. “What are you looking for? To bring me to my knees?” He exhaled sharply, forcing the blood to rush back into his brain. At last, he faced her with calm. From deep inside, he dredged up every last bit of self-authority he’d cultivated over the years as a tough Marine.

“You said it yourself; too much to drink, right? You don’t know what you’re saying or doing right now. Doing to me.” His eyes, though angry, were imploring – pleading with her to let it go. But he knew that hope was futile.

“So you want me?” she cooed, smiling with soft pleasure. “Good. I want you to want me. Want me so bad you’ll not think twice about doing what I’ve been wishing and hoping forever for you to do to me. I love you, Ivan. I think I always have. And I want you to make love to me.”

No. No. And no.

Ivan said those words in his head again and again until he meant them. His whole body almost trembling with anger at himself for letting things get this far, Ivan snatched a huge towel from the shelf and walked up to where she stood in the tepid water. He swathed the towel roughly around her.

“I’ll forget you said that, Olivia. Because I know you’ve just been through a tough night and have probably had too much to drink. So I’m not hearing you right now. You can sleep over of course. And you can take the master bedroom; I’ll bunk down on the living room couch. But you and me...it’s not going to happen, little dove.”

He was already almost out of the open doorway when she blurted out angrily, “It’s just going to happen again, you know. I’m going to go out there soon and find a man who’s not afraid to give me what I want. And maybe next time I won’t chicken out at the last minute.”

In an instant Ivan whipped round and moved – grabbing her shoulders roughly, looking into her nervous face and seeing that the sudden motion scared her. And yet there was also a sensual expectation in her gaze as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her out of the tub, still barely wrapped in her towel. He airlifted her straight from the bathroom to the bedroom like she weighed no more than a bag of feathers.

Ivan tossed her on the bed and joined her, hearing her let out a shocked cry. Impatiently, he tugged the damp towel off her, leaving her naked beneath him. He saw himself pushing her on her back as she made to sit up, his name a gasp on her lips.

Falling in between her legs, he seized her flailing wrists and lifted them above her head. Ivan could hear his own harsh breathing. His head felt like a smoke bomb had exploded in his brain. Her body writhed beneath him, and when his furious eyes focused on her beautiful face, he saw the soft smile slowly lifting her lips.


“Ooh...yes,” she let out on a gasping whisper of triumph.

He didn’t care. She’d won. He was hard and hungry for her. His lips suddenly pressed starved, messy kisses all over her mouth, face and neck. Lying there on top of her soft, writhing frame, he couldn’t think straight. His mind was crazed with need and it made him want to eat her alive.

His mouth tore from hers and he heard her moan as he licked on the curve of her neck, sucking hard. When he finally raised his head to see her lying there, submissive and eager beneath his restraining hands on both her wrists, he went crazier. She chose that moment to bite seductively on her bottom lip, and he felt ready to rip into her there and then.

“Why did you do that, Liv?” Ivan finally groaned, his voice so strained with torment it was unrecognizable. “Saying those things about finding some other guy to give you what you want? Don’t f*ck with my head like that, baby. Do you have any idea what I wanted to do the minute you showed up and told me some guy had tried to molest you? I wanted to go out there with my MK23 handgun, find that motherf*cker and just...” He shook his head with a grimace of fury etched into his face.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just wanted you so bad for so long. Please, Ivan. Take off your clothes. I need to feel your skin against mine,” she pleaded, her hands twitching beneath the vice-like grip he had around her wrists.

He let her go and in one fluid motion, pulled his white t-shirt over his head. There was the clink of his dog tags as they thudded down on his bare chest with its black, bold scripted tattoo on his left side of his pecs. The words, written in Latin, read “Victory is the only option.” Ivan felt more than victorious right then with Olivia’s eyes drinking him in as he finally rid himself of every item of clothing. His jeans and boxers were the last to go.